Wolf Among Us
by prettycreepy
Summary: AU; Sansa Stark x Willas Tyrell
1. CH1

As the decorated wheelhouse creaked and groaned, Lord Mace Tyrell huffed and grunted while shifting his weight every few moments. It had been seven and twenty days with Mace Tyrell as her traveling companion, and it was right to say that Sansa fared far better than her soon - to - be father in law.

"I say child, I will be quite happy when we reach Highgarden, I have grown tired of this wheelhouse. Even riding horseback would be more enjoyable." He pulled at his collar, clearing his throat. Sansa could agree, but she had learned early on in their journey that Mace Tyrell had no intention of riding horseback unless absolutely necessary.

Their journey took them along the Roseroad, an almost eight-hundred-mile trip that seemed to go by at an astonishingly slow pace, until Sansa began to think she would die of anticipation or boredom. Too soothe her nerves, she would think of each place they had passed, knowing it put her further and further away from the capitol.

Most days the sun shone brightly and the weather was calm and still. They had experienced a few unpleasant bouts of storms, though nothing too severe. With nothing but time to spare Sansa contemplated every decision she had made up until that time, over and over again until she made herself sick. It was so easy to place the blame on herself. It seemed like almost every horrible thing that happened had been cause by her somehow. She should have trusted her father and Arya more. If she had, they might have made it out of that city whole. Instead, Sansa was left all alone. Any family she had left alive was half way across Westeros, and it was likely she would never see any of them again.

The circumstances that took her to Highgarden were mostly unknown to her. The Tyrells were the second most powerful family in the Kingdom, and although she had grown to thoroughly enjoy Margaery's company it had been difficult to trust her. After the death of her father there had been little very little kindness in Sansa's life, and she had certainly given no one her trust. In fact, the day that Margaery and Olenna proposed their idea was the first day that she had even wanted to.

Margaery admitted that she had already brought it up to Joffery, which meant they had a very small, but open window of time. If Sansa wished it, they would take her on a 'tour' of Highgarden where upon her arrival she would marry Willas Tyrell in secret. She could still feel the sharp twinge in her chest as she had agreed almost immediately, the words flying from her lips. To refuse a match of that standing would have unbelievably rude and incredibly stupid, and completely impossible to do. It was the first and only way out, and she had to take it. Afterwards she couldn't help but panic as she wondered what kind of man she had agreed to marry. Her chest tightened and her heart raced, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. Was it possible for him to be as cruel as Joffrey, or could be really be as kind as Margaery insisted he was? It was the greatest risk she had dared to take in years.

The evening before her departure, Sansa received a personal farewell gift from Joffrey in the form of fresh bruises around her neck. He visited her chambers in the early hours of the morning, the sky still dark. She woke to his nails digging into her skin, his hand wrapped around her throat. He squeezed and she began to choke, the fear welling in her heart. There was little for her to do but try and pull his hand from her neck while his other hand pulled her hair taunt. It went on and on until the edges of her eyes began to blur and darken, until she felt herself slipping away. Then suddenly the choking stopped and air rushed back into her starved lungs. She coughed and held her throat, rolling to her side. Joffrey yanked her back by her hair, his menacing beet red face almost touching her. His voice was low and sickening. "Remember, I can have you back any time I wish." He pushed her back down to the bed, moving to leave. She'd word a cloak drawn tight to hide the marks, her hair laid over anything that wasn't covered.

Sansa had cried when she finally left the gates of King's Landing, and it had taken all the strength she could muster not to when she spied the first glints of the golden roses in the distance. Highgarden was known for its imperial beauty that was rivaled by no other place in the Kingdom. It was surrounded by fields of golden roses that stretched on and on, leading up to the great castle. She yearned to see more, but her line of sight was frustratingly constricted by the tiny wheelhouse windows. Mace chuckled, his face filled with relief. "Thank the Seven. The first sign of home." Sansa smiled, nodding her head.

It took some time before Sansa could see the great castle, and another hour passed before they crossed through the first gates. The castle itself was simply captivating, a massive white stone construct. The smallfolk seemed almost happy. There was no air of unrest or suffering, a vast contrast to the atmosphere of King's Landing where people were dying in the streets and actively revolting.

They traveled through several more gates until they were at the innermost point of the castle where the Tyrell's themselves resided. After a quick farewell from Mace, Sansa was led directly to the chambers that had been prepared for her arrival. The room was huge and elegantly decorated. Beautiful feather pillows lay on an enormous bed and green velvet draperies hung beside large windows. The windows opened onto a balcony littered with roses and furniture meant for lounging. Upon further exploration Sansa found a carefully bound piece of parchment that bore the Tyrell seal in golden wax. Sansa took a deep breath as she picked it up gently. She opened the doors the balcony, standing in fading light of the sun. The air was fragrant and cool, the view breathtakingly perfect. The sky was streaked with pink and purples, giving the castle a surreal atmosphere. The balcony over looked an extensive rectangular garden filled with fountains, gazebos, and bursts of countless plants.

When Sansa finally found enough courage to unroll the letter, her stomach was in knots and her heart panged wildly. The hand writing was neat and bold, and her eyes drank the carefully penned words in.

 _'My dearest Sansa,_

 _Welcome to Highgarden. I know that your journey will have been long and tiresome, but I must confess that I have impatiently awaited your arrival. Your letters have been a greater treasure than you could know. I count the moments until we meet at last._

 _W'_

She gasped softly, feeling the heat rise to her face. Every one of Willas' letters had been so charming and wonderful, their exchange beginning after she left the confines of King's Landing. They left her awestruck and made her completely smitten for a man she had never laid her eyes on, a supremely conflicting feeling. She thought of Willas then, suddenly much more aware of his proximity. Mere hours stood between them now, nothing compared to what had passed.

Sansa's hands were still clutching the letter firmly to her chest when two women bid entrance to her chambers. The handmaidens introduced themselves and lead her to an adjoining room where she was treated to a deeply satisfying bath. Scented candles burned all around her, soft pink rose petals floating in the water. They scrubbed her clean and brushed her hair until it was dry, the entire process leaving her thoroughly exhausted. The room was quiet and the sun had already set by the time she was left to her own devices again, but sleep pulled at her body. She closed her eyes for a few hours, but woke restless to a moonlit room. Every time she closed her eyes she imagined a thousand different Willas Tyrells, each with their own personality and face. She even found herself whispering his name so there would be no chance of fumbling her words in the morning.

Margaery had done her best to tell Sansa as much as she could about Willas, and had turned out to be a plethora of information. He was most obviously eldest son and heir to Highgarden, but so much more than that. Margaery depicted him as a kind man, loyal to his family and his people. A positive, yet truly biased opinion. It mattered not, in a week's time she would be wed to Lord Willas Tyrell, and if there was the smallest chance of happiness behind the walls of Highgarden, Sansa owed it to herself to find it.


	2. CH2

After hours of restless sleep Sansa woke to a room suffused in the soft glow of the sun, the melodic songs of birds drifting in with the breeze. It wasn't long before two handmaidens arrived, pleasant smiles on their faces as they bid her good morning and offered her fruits and pastries to break her fast. They dressed her in a grey silk brocade gown, flowers of grey and white woven into the respectably cut bodice. The design was more akin to the Southern fashions, as was the rest of her new wardrobe. She wore light color on her lips and cheeks and a jasmine oil dabbed behind her ears and on her wrists. Her hair was curled into long tendrils, the sides pulled back from her face in a flattering manner and held in place by a silver direwolf comb.

When the time came to descend to the gardens Sansa found herself frozen with fright, staring intently at her reflection in the mirror. One of the handmaidens put a hand on her arm, a compassionate look in her eyes as she urged Sansa to take the first few steps out of the room. A trio of guards in green cloaks escorted her through the halls, the journey reinforcing the enormity of her new home. Every single bit of HIghgarden was lovely and pristine, so much more so than King's Landing or Winterfell. It was a kind of imperial beauty that she had never seen before, so indescribably elegant.

The walk to the garden fell like an eternity and nothing all at once, time moving in a peculiar fashion. The building anticipation made her heart race, her hands clasped together in front of her to keep them from trembling. As they stepped outside into the sunlight, Sansa took a deep breath and let the warmth wash over her. She stopped there, taking a moment to acknowledge how deeply her life was about to change. The precipice she stood before was vast and full of the unknown. There was no turning back from it.

Paved pathways took them to a large stone pavilion held up by giant carved pillars. In the center sat a table with a small group of people gathered around it, their faces coming into focus as she approached. Mace was easily recognizable, leaving just three other individuals. One of the two men stood beside a woman dressed in blues and golds, making the young man with the cane standing alone Willas Tyrell. He was _dashing_. The rumors around his accident had painted him in an unflattering light but that was not the case. He had the same chestnut colored hair as his siblings but shorter, curling slightly at the ends. She was a few yards away when she saw that his eyes were blue like her own, a kindness within them. Some of her apprehension fell away, a smile growing on her face. Etiquette and decorum had been her strong suits long before her time in the Capitol. _'This is where you excel, just be natural.'_ Her thoughts were interrupted by Mace's joyful voice singing out. "Ah, Sansa. Good morning, my dear daughter to be. Come come, meet my son and heir; Willas."

"Lady Sansa it is an absolute honor to meet you at last." He took the hand she offered, his lips brushing her knuckles. "I know I am not the first, but let me officially welcome you to Highgarden. I dare say these castle walls have never seen such beauty as yours."

"My Lord, your words are too kind. The honor belongs to me." He was ever the gentleman, his smile authentic and warm. Outwardly he seemed to be everything a man of his stature should be. "This is my brother Garlan and his wife Leonette. Also, a new comer to Highgarden. We have some time before the meal will be served, perhaps we could take a stroll around the garden? If that pleases you?"

Sansa nodded her head. "That sounds lovely." She accompanied him away from the pavilion and down an adjacent path trimmed lush greenery and flora. Along the way, they made polite small talk, Sansa's attention split between Willas and the unfamiliar environment around her. "I've never seen so many flowers in my life."

"Yes well, ' _Growing Strong',_ they say. Though, I always assumed they meant the family, not millions of flowers. I'm ashamed to say I never took the time to learn any of the names. What do you think of the rest of Highgarden?"

"What little I've seen is magnificent." She answered plainly, curious to hear his response.

"Yes, I am sorry about that. Restricting your movements to the family residence makes it easier to keep you safe. I've done what I can to root out any disloyalty in Highgarden, but one can never be certain in such matters."

Sansa nodded, a touch of disappointment in her heart that seemed to carry into her voice. "I understand."

"As soon as the greatest threats have passed, I will personally show you every inch of Highgarden. I promise you are no one's captive here, my lady."

The pair entered a circular courtyard, an elaborate fountain depicting the Mother situated in the center. Sansa strolled forward, the soothing sound of moving water giving the courtyard a serene atmosphere. "I want to thank you." She said, turning to face him once again. "For everything. The depth of my gratitude is endless. You have truly saved my life."

"I did what any respectable man would have. You did not belong in that place. That much was clear. However, this is no small thing we set out to do together. It may not be received well by the Crown, or yourfamily for that matter. I wish there was more time for us to know one another but at the moment, we hold the upper hand."

She smiled plaintively. "My mother hardly new my father when they were married. The strangest of circumstances brought them together, but they grew to love one another. In the end, they were _happy_. That's all I want… A chance to find that." She looked up to meet his gaze, a redness rising to her cheeks.

"I swear to do everything in my power to help you, my lady."

"Please, call me Sansa. I believe we could do with a little lack of formality."

"How right you are. Now, I should probably get you back before I'm accused of monopolizing your company."

"Could they really blame you?"

They departed the courtyard, making their way back to the pavilion where a set table awaited them, laden with food filled dishes. Sansa ate little, her attention more focused on those around her. The conversation between them all flowed so naturally, absent of distrust or pretense like a proper family.

"Now that the lady Sansa has arrived, perhaps Willas will be inclined to venture forth from his library more often." Garlan said to Leonette, attempting to antagonize his brother. "Darling, I think you're on to something." Leonette answered, smiling at Sansa from across the table.

"Oh, not this again." Willas said, rolling his eyes at the pair. "Try not to take these two seriously, they're incapable of such feats of maturity."

"Brother, you wound me so." Garlan said, feigning offence and laughing. "Lady Sansa, tell us, what are your hobbies?".

"I enjoy needlepoint and sewing, but I must admit I occupied a great deal of my time in the Capitol with books."

"Oh dear, we might as well give up hope now." Leonette sighed dramatically, Garlan taking her hand. "Please Leonette, stop before you earn us another lecture."

"Now I'll have you two know that I've spent years collecting those books. I apologize Sansa, _certain_ members of this family lack an appreciation for literature." Willas quipped back at his younger brother, who laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "He's not wrong." Sansa smiled in amusement, laughing along with Leonette.

"What a wonderful note to end on. Sansa, if you would accompany me there is some where I would like to show you."

"Of course." There was a hint of surprise in her voice but she wished the others farewell and followed Willas out of the garden with a group of guards trailing behind them. Most of the Tyrells of Highgarden were in King's Landing, giving the residence a vacant atmosphere. The cavernous halls were mostly devoid of life, save for the house staff and guard.

A silence hung between them, not entirely uncomfortable but noticeable. It gave Sansa a chance to clear her mind, until curiosity took over and she was more interested in their destination. "Am I to know where we're going?"

"If you'd like. I thought you might enjoy seeing the godswood. The three weirwoods are quite captivating and they receive very few visitors."

"The Three Singers, rumored to have been planted by Garth Greenhand, if I remember correctly." Only a handful of weirwoods remained outside of the North, most of them hidden away within Southern castles.

"So the legends say, though I suppose we'll never really know. Ah. Here we are." Two doors stood open before them, a set of stairs leading down to an earthen pathway. A small pond shimmered in the distance surrounded by a grove of trees, not unlike the godswood in Winterfell. The heartrees wept red tears, their woeful faces eerily reflected on the surface of the water. They circled the pond until Sansa stood beneath the center tree, one hand stretched out to meet the coarse bark. The presence of the trees invoked the strangest sense of contentment and loneliness within her, reminding her that no matter how far she strayed, she always managed to find a piece of the north. "It's breathtaking… Thank you for bringing me here. It's very considerate of you."

"I must admit, it's Margaery who deserves the thanks. She mentioned your fondness for the Old Gods in our correspondences. You're welcome to come here as often as you like. Why don't I give you a few moments alone?"

"I would like that very much." Her voice was a barely above a whisper, a stray tear betraying her constitution as she bowed her head. It had been over a moon's turn since she last communed with the Old Gods but her prayers were much the same. Sansa asked for strength and guidance, but above all else peace for her family in whatever form it might take.

Quite whispers drew her attention to Willas who stood on the opposite side of the pond beside a knight in a green cloak. She watched their exchange, taking note of the stern look in Willas' eyes. Sansa tilted her head as she approached, picking up a few words before they noticed her presence and the conversation came to an end. "Willas?"

"Troubling news from the Wall arrived this morning. I'm afraid it requires my immediate attention."

Sansa inhaled sharply, her shoulders stiffening. "My brother Jon is at the Wall."

Willas nodded his head. "I understand. As soon as I know what's happened I'll come directly to you. In the meantime, if you would like to stay here longer I can arrange for your guard to wait with you, or you could wait in the library."

"I think I would prefer the library, thank you."

"Well, let us be on our way then."

Sansa was led back through way they had come, and headed in the direction that was vaguely familiar. "This way leads back to the residence. You'll have a proper tour in the coming days, but your guard will keep you from getting turned around." They approached a great door trimmed with iron flanked by a pair of guards.

Inside was one of the largest libraries Sansa had ever seen. She broke away from him at the nearest shelf, turning as she took in the room. "This is incredible..." The room was rectangular with soaring ceilings, tall windows carved out of the stone. A staircase led up to a second floor where more shelves and desks awaited.

"I've spent a great deal of time expanding our collections, amassing as many books as humanly possible. Perhaps they can keep you company whenever I'm away." Willas was beaming, unabashedly proud. Sansa nodded her head, a smile on her lips as she followed him down a short hallway to spacious chamber with a wide desk and several elegant chaises. The wall opposite of them had the same tall arching windows and a set of doors that opened to reveal a small private garden, complete with its own small pavilion. "This is my office, please come and go as you like." An auburn-haired knight appeared in the doorway, Willas turning to greet him. "Ah, perfect. Sansa this is Sir Calen Vyrwel, the captain of your personal guard. If you require anything, simply ask. I'll be back as soon as possible."

Sansa watched him leave, exchanging pleasantries with Calen as she meandered around the library. She returned to Willas' office with a book in hand, finding a place in the sun before diving into the book of traditional Dornish poetry, an hour or so passing before the door opened again. She'd grown quite tired and had closed her eyes for the briefest of moments when the sound of the door startled her enough to make her squeak in surprise.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to wake you." Willas smiled, but the glint of amusement in his eyes vanished as he took the seat beside her. "It would seem that Lord Commander Mormont led three – hundred sworn brothers beyond the Wall and they encountered resistance of some kind… They say wights fell upon them at the Fist of the First Men while they gathered information about a growing wildling horde. A dozen men survived the journey back. We're going to attempt to answer their ravens and establish a line of communication. There's a chance your brother remained behind at Castle Black, and I think you should reach out to him. The Lord Commander died beyond the Wall and it's unclear who's taken his place. Your brother may know more about what's happened. I believe you should compose letters for your mother and your brother Robb as well. Let them know that you were of sound body and mind before your wedding day."

"Robb is a traitor, as is my mother." Sansa's shoulders stiffened, an unintentional curtness in her voice that appeared anytime she was made to speak of her family. "What would you have me say to them?"

"I believe you misunderstand my intent. I do not wish to use you as a pawn Sansa. You may say whatever you like to them."

A tear rolled down her check, her brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand…" She felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder, the physical contacting somewhat calming.

"You might remember that the Tyrells also stood in open rebellion against the King, and here we are. Treachery is relative. To speak frankly, I'm aware of the atrocities you faced in King's Landing and know that you did nothing to deserve such treatment. I want you to know that nothing like that will _ever_ happen to you here. I will do everything in my power to make certain of it."

There were no words within her, the tears she'd been holding back streaming down her face. It was everything she wanted to hear and more but it was mortifying that Willas knew of the abuses she had suffered. Her hands desperately clutched the book in her lap as she took long deep breaths to still her heart.

"I'm truly sorry Sansa, I didn't mean to upset you. I can't imagine how this is difficult, but they're your _family_. I don't want you to look back and regret not taking this opportunity."

Her voice was meek, barely above a whisper. "I'll do it." He was right. She would never forgive herself if something were to happen to them and she'd let her chance slip by. She dried her face with the back of her hand, pulling herself together.

"I believe I owe you a proper apology." Willas said, rising to his feet. "Would you indulge me once more?"

Sansa agreed and they left the library behind, Willas leading her back to her chambers. She heard the strangest of noises coming from inside the room, Sansa tilting her head to try to hear them more clearly. The door opened to reveal a young pup rolling around on the floor while it yipped and whined, a member of the house staff affectionately wrestling with it. He stood, bowing before he took his leave. "My lord, my lady."

The ball of white fur bounded at her, Sansa dropping to her knees to meet it. He climbed into her lap and nuzzled her arm, her heart melting.

"I hope you don't mind… We always kept them as children and I thought having a companion might help you adjust to your new home."

"What a thoughtful surprise, thank you." She looked up at him, smiling brightly. "I shall call him Winter."

"A fitting name."

They supped together in a private dining hall near her chambers, Winter scurrying around the room until he exhausted all his energy and slept stretched out across her feet. The more time she spent in Willas' company the more she grew to enjoy it, the silences less strained and the conversation more fluid. They talked of books they had read and Willas told her of the many noble families of the Reach and his opinions of them. He made her laugh until tears streamed down her face once more, Willas leaning over to wipe them away, a smile on his face. It was there they stayed until the hour grew too late and Willas escorted her to her chambers, both somewhat uneager to part ways.

"You're an extraordinary woman Sansa Stark." He leaned against her door frame, smiling down at her. "Before I bid you goodnight, there's one last thing. There's to be a fitting for your gown tomorrow. I mentioned it to Leonette and she intends to keep you company during the fitting. Then I believe she's planned a tea for the two of you afterwards. She can be a _bit_ overbearing but she means well, truly."

"I'm sure we'll have a wonderful time. I look forward to it."

"Well then, goodnight Sansa. Until we meet again."

"Until then." The door closed but a smile lingered on her lips, Winter waddling around the room in a tired stupor. She changed into her night clothes and scooped the pup into her arms, making a spot for him beside her on the bed. One candle burned on the bedside table, the dance of the flame lulling her into a blissfully thoughtless sleep.

Court was a great deal livelier than usual that morning, the identity of their guest having spread like wildfire. It was no secret that Sansa Stark had arrived in Highgarden, albeit under a carefully constructed and time sensitive guise. Save for carefully selected members of the Tyrell family and Sansa herself, no one knew the truth behind her departure from King's Landing.

Everyone Willas spoke to was eager to meet the famed Stark daughter, though he doubted their intentions. It seemed best to give her time to rest after her travels, so Willas arranged a small gathering for the day after her arrival. He used the time to council his father on recent developments, including their increasingly complicated relationship with the Lannisters. Tensions were higher than ever at the Capitol. They clearly felt threatened by the absence of their only Stark hostage and Olenna was starting to suspect retaliation of some sort. The entire coup d'état had been made possible by Margaery and her connection to Joffrey, but the King was unstable at best. It was a complicated maneuver but if they were successful they would shift more power away from the Lannisters and liberate Sansa from the numerous cruelties she was forced to endure at the hands of her captors.

The day finally arrived and Willas stood beside his father and brother loosely contributing to the conversation. Garlan's bride Leonette was also in attendance, laughing hanging on her husband's every word. Despite his immaturity Garlan was a trustworthy and loyal man who had returned home after Renly Baratheon's death rather than head for King's Landing with the rest of the family, something Willas had greatly appreciated.

After trying and failing to follow his father's story Willas simply abandoned the effort and watched the entrance to the garden instead. The mystery of Sansa Stark had beguiled him for weeks and the time to solve it had come at last. Willas always made it a point to devote his full attention to his endeavors and getting to know his betrothed would be no different. In fact, Garlan had suggested more than once that he was overly committed to winning Sansa's affections and Willas hadn't bother to disagree. She was the woman that would keep his council, raise his children, and one day govern Highgarden by his side. She would be his partner in everything. He could not afford to be her enemy.

Willas heard the foot falls of the guards before they rounded the corner, Sansa positioned between them. Her hair was a fiery copper set ablaze by the sun, a sharp contrast from her porcelain skin. He'd heard the stories of Lyanna Stark, the woman whose beauty captivated Rhaegar Targaryen and led him to war, but he'd never quite believed someone could be so beautiful. It was only when Sansa stood before him that he realized how wrong he had been.

Brilliant blue eyes looked up at him, making him keenly aware of his own appearance and the cane in his hand. He'd tried to dress as simply as possible that morning, donning a doublet fashioned in his house's colors with a single golden rose embroidered on the left side of his chest. He kept a neatly trimmed mustache with little other facial hair, and had even let his almond curls be brushed into a less haphazard style despite his misgivings.

"Ah, Sansa. Good morning, my dear daughter to be. Come come, meet my son and heir; Willas."

Taking her hand in his, Willas kissed the top of it. "Lady Sansa it is an absolute honor to meet you at last. I know I am not the first, but let me officially welcome you to Highgarden. I dare say these castle walls have never seen such beauty as yours."

"My Lord, your words are too kind. The honor belongs to me." Her voice was soft and elegant, bits of her northern accent slipping through in places.

"This is my brother Garlan and his wife Leonette. Also, a new comer to Highgarden. We have some time before the meal will be served, perhaps we could take a stroll around the garden? If that pleases you?"

"That sounds lovely." She seemed entirely composed, likely drawing on her years of practiced courtesy. "I've never seen so many flowers in my life."

"Yes well, ' _Growing Strong',_ they say. Though, I always assumed they meant the family, not millions of flowers. I'm ashamed to say I never took the time to learn any of the names. What do you think of the rest of Highgarden?" They strolled along, Willas trying to imagine what his home must look like through an outsider's eyes.

"What little I've seen is magnificent."

Her pointed answer revealed the natural skepticism Willas had anticipated. "Yes, I am sorry about that. Restricting your movements to the family residence makes it easier to keep you safe. I've done what I can to root out any disloyalty in Highgarden, but one can never be certain in such matters."

"I understand."

He understood how suspicious it must seem from where she stood and he wasn't sure his words would be enough to quell her fears. He'd made her security his highest priority, taking every step he could to ensure her safety. There were twice as many guards within the residence and he'd handpicked the members of her personal guard to guarantee their loyalty. "As soon as the greatest threats have passed, I will personally show you every inch of Highgarden. I promise you are no one's captive here, my lady."

Willas had chosen the closest fountain to show her, a statue of the Mother with water pouring from her hands. Her silence gave him pause, but her words surprised him more. "I want to thank you. For everything. The depth of my gratitude is endless. You have truly saved my life."

"I did what any respectable man would have. You did not belong in that place. That much was clear. Though, this is no small thing we set out to do together. It may not be received well by the Crown, or yourfamily for that matter. I wish there was more time for us to know one another but at the moment, we hold the upper hand." Willas had spent hours trying to imagine what form of retaliation the Lannister's might attempt and what precautions he might be able to take against it. Tywin Lannister was undoubtedly cunning and ruthless but Willas shared his grandmother's duplicitous nature and was _more_ than capable of wreaking his own kind of havoc in the name of his family.

"My mother hardly new my father when they were married. The strangest of circumstances brought them together, but they grew to love one another. They were _happy_. That's all I want… A chance to find that."

"I swear to do everything in my power to help you, my lady."

"Please, call me Sansa. I believe we could do with a little lack of formality."

"How right you are. Now, I should probably get you back before I'm accused of monopolizing your company."

"Could they really blame you?"

Willas smiled, offering her an arm as they strolled back to the pavilion. They all sat around the table, the whole scene quite picturesque. Sansa was completely endearing, more than willing to listen to his father's long winded stories and entertain Garlan's juvenile antics.

"Now that the lady Sansa has arrived, perhaps Willas will be inclined to venture from his library more often." Willas put his goblet down and directed his attention to the pair, aware of their exaggerated smiles. "Darling, I think you're on to something."

"Oh, not this again." Willas said, rolling his eyes and largely ignoring them. "Try not to take these two seriously, they're incapable of such feats of maturity."

"Brother, you wound me so." Garlan said, feigning offence and laughing.

"Lady Sansa, tell us, what are your hobbies?" Leonette asked pointedly.

"I enjoy needlepoint and sewing, but I must admit I occupied a great deal of my time in the Capitol with books."

"Oh dear, we might as well give up hope now." Leonette sighed dramatically, Garlan taking her hand. "Please Leonette, stop before you earn us another lecture."

Willas scoffed. "Now I'll have you two know that I've spent years collecting those books." He stopped himself, not wanting to antagonize the two any further. "I apologize Sansa, _certain_ members of this family lack an appreciation for literature." Willas quipped back at his younger brother, who laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "He's not wrong."

With a broad smile, Willas took his cane in hand and stood. "What a wonderful note to end on. Sansa, if you would accompany me there is some where I would like to show you."

"Of course."

The few letters they were able to exchange had given Willas little insight into what Sansa's personality might be like, leading him to turn to his sister. Margaery had been moderately forthcoming but didn't want to risk betraying Sansa's trust, just as she would never betray his. Willas appreciated the sentiment.

"Am I to know where we're going?"

"If you'd like. I thought you might enjoy seeing the godswood. The three weirwoods are quite captivating and they receive very few visitors." The godswood was little more than another garden to most of Highgarden's inhabitants but he suspected Sansa would find some comfort in it.

"The Three Singers, rumored to have been planted by Garth Greenhand, if I remember correctly."

"So the legends say, though I suppose we'll never really know. Ah. Here we are." Willas had familiarized himself with the Northern religion in preparation for Sansa's arrival in the hopes that the he could avoid embarrassing himself and to aid in a certain endeavor. It was so fluid and natural compared to the Faith of the Seven with no scripture or structure for its followers to adhere to, an enviable quality in Willas' opinion.

"It's breathtaking… Thank you for bringing me here. It's very considerate of you."

"I must admit, it's Margaery who deserves the thanks. She mentioned your fondness for the Old Gods in our correspondences. You're welcome to come here as often as you like." He saw the look on her face, her eyes focused on the great tree before her. "Why don't I give you a few moments alone?"

"I would like that very much."

Willas nodded, stepping away to give her privacy. He found himself on the opposite side of the pond lost in his own thoughts when he saw a figure approaching out of the corner of his eye. The knight belonged to his father's guard, the young man apprehensive to break the silence.

"My lord, several ravens arrived from the Wall this morning carrying ill tidings. Lord Mace and Maester Lomys request your presence in the council chambers."

Willas looked back at Sansa briefly before nodding his head begrudgingly. "Very well. Tell my father I'll be there as quickly as I can."

"Willas?" Sansa was beside him now, the knight taking his leave.

"Troubling news from the Wall arrived this morning. I'm afraid it requires my immediate attention."

"My brother Jon is at the Wall."

Willas' eyebrows raised in response. He had forgotten about Ned Stark's baseborn son and his confounding decision to take the black. It was unlikely that Jon would be mentioned directly but any amount of information might ease the worry in her eyes. "I understand. As soon as I know what's happened I'll come directly to you. In the meantime, if you would like to stay here longer I can arrange for your guard to wait with you, or you could wait in the library."

"I think I would prefer the library, thank you."

"Well, let us be on our way then." The godswood was further away from the residence than Willas would have liked but the library was very conveniently located within the family keep. " This way leads back to the residence. You'll have a proper tour in the coming days, but your guard will keep you from getting turned around." They arrived at the library, Willas doing his best not to seem overly pleased with himself as they passed over the threshold.

"This is incredible..."

"I've spent a great deal of time expanding our collections, amassing as many books as humanly possible. Perhaps they can keep you company whenever I'm away." He led her back through a hallway to the chambers he had taken over years ago for his office. Truth be told he did spend a great deal of time tucked away within it, a habit worsened by his growing list of responsibilities. "This is my office, please come and go as you like." He heard foot step behind him, turning to find Calen Vrywel in the doorway. Calen was the son of Igon Vyrwel and Willas had known him since childhood. He was a trustworthy man with a wife and child that kept his ambitions grounded despite his skill with a blade. "Ah, perfect. Sansa this is Sir Calen Vyrwel, the captain of your personal guard. If you require anything, simply ask. I'll be back as soon as possible."

Willas found his father, brother, and Lomys inside the council chambers with forlorn faces all around. They picked up a bit at his entrance, Garlan handing Willas a bit of rolled parchment, the words within belonging to the Night Watch's own Maester Aemon.

' _Lord Commander Mormont led a great ranging beyond the Wall, taking with him three – hundred sworn brothers in an attempt to learn more about the rumored 'King Beyond the Wall', Mance Raider and his growing wildling army. The party reached the Fist of the First Men where a horde of wights fell upon the unsuspecting brothers. Some fifty men survived the attack but only a dozen have returned from beyond the Wall. We lack the numbers to defend Castle Black. Those lost include the Lord Commander himself. If Mance Raider's army breaches the Wall we stand little chance and with the cold comes the wights. We implore you to send reinforcements to the Wall before it is too late."_

"Willas, my son?"

"This can't be. _Wights? A wildling army?_ Westeros is in pieces. If even a bit of this is true it spells trouble for all of us…" It seemed so preposterous to consider the validity of the letter. ' _They had to know their pleas would fall upon deaf ears, every major house in the kingdom is embroiled in the war with no men to spare…_ ' Perhaps it was less of a plea and more of a warning meant for the few who would take the words seriously. The Stark forces would crumble if they were made to fight a war on two fronts and no army in the Seven Kingdoms was prepared to fight any kind of unnatural enemy. Willas took the seat beside his brother, dropping the roll of parchments onto the table. "You would take these words as truth?"

Lomys shifted in his seat. "They are troubling… It frightens me to consider the consequences should we ignore them."

Mace grumbled. "What choice do we have? We'll never make it through the North, not while this bloody war still rages."

"Even still, I agree with Lomys the risk is too great to simply do nothing. We should respond to their raven and dispatch another to the Starks. They've been unable to spare the resources to reclaim Winterfell and their numbers are falling with each battle regardless of the outcome. This could convince them to surrender."

"I doubt the King will take kindly to you negotiating on his behalf, brother."

"I don't plan to. We only need to know if they intend on acting on this information, and in addition to our own ravens I believe Sansa should be allowed to communicate with them as well. They'll trust her word more than any of ours no matter how pure our intentions. Her half – brother Jon joined the Watch, he may be able to validate the claims."

"And you believe she'll be willing? She could betray us."

"I find that unlikely, but there's only one way to find out."

Leaving the other men behind Willas returned to the library, finding Calen at the end of the hallway in front of the chamber's door. It opened to Sansa, asleep with a book in her lap across the room. The door unintentionally shut loudly behind him, Sansa emitting a small squeak, her eyes suddenly open. "I apologize, I didn't mean to wake you." He sat next to her, clearing his throat. "It would seem that Lord Commander Mormont led three – hundred sworn brothers beyond the Wall and they encountered resistance of some kind… They say wights fell upon them at the Fist of the First Men while they gathered information about a growing wildling horde. A dozen men survived the journey back. We're going to attempt to answer their ravens and establish a line of communication. There's a chance your brother remained behind at Castle Black, and I think you should reach out to him. The Lord Commander died beyond the Wall and it's unclear who's taken his place. Your brother may know more about what's happened. I believe you should compose letters for your mother and your brother Robb as well. Let them know that you are safe behind the walls of Highgarden and that you were of sound body and mind before your wedding day."

Her demeanor changed instantly, a sternness to her face. "Robb is a traitor, as is my mother. What would you have me say to them?"

Realizing how carefully he needed to tread, Willas leaned forward. "I believe you misunderstand my intent. I do not wish to use you as a pawn Sansa. You may say whatever you like to them."

"I don't understand…"

He reached out to her, heading directly into tumultuous waters. "You might remember that the Tyrells also stood in open rebellion against the King, and here we are. Treachery is relative. To speak frankly, I'm aware of the atrocities you faced in King's Landing and know that you did nothing to deserve such treatment. I want you to know that nothing like that will _ever_ happen to you here. I will do everything in my power to make certain of it." A twinge of panic struck him at the first sign of tears, Willas cursing himself silently. "I'm truly sorry Sansa, I didn't mean to upset you. I can't imagine how this is difficult, but they're your _family_. I don't want you to look back and regret not taking this opportunity."

"I'll do it."

"I believe I owe you a proper apology." Willas said as he stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "Would you indulge me once more?"

He thanked the Gods for his foresight, praying it was enough to repair the possible damage he had done. He took her back to her chambers, a tense silence hanging between them. He opened the door, watching Sansa carefully as she took in the sight of the small mastiff pup. "My lord, my lady." Willas nodded at the man, Stefan, one of the senior house staff who took his leave.

"I hope you don't mind… We always kept them as children and I thought having a companion might help you adjust to your new home."

"What a thoughtful surprise, thank you. I shall call him Winter."

Willas relaxed visibly, the sight of her smile lifting his heart. "A fitting name."

They shared a meal together, a rapport building between them while they laughed and shared tales. He accompanied her back to her chambers where they lingered outside of her door. "You're an extraordinary woman Sansa Stark." He was about to depart when he remembered one detail he had failed to mention. "Before I bid you goodnight, there's one last thing. There's to be a fitting for your gown tomorrow. I mentioned it to Leonette and she intends to keep you company during the fitting. Then I believe she's planned a tea for the two of you afterwards. She can be a _bit_ overbearing but she means well, truly."

"I'm sure we'll have a wonderful time. I look forward to it."

"Well then, goodnight Sansa. Until we meet again."

"Until then."


End file.
